Last Wednesday, Philadelphia faith healers Herbert and Catherine Schaible were sentenced to up to seven years in prison for allowing their eight-month-old son Brandon to die of a treatable illness because taking him to the doctor would have violated their religious beliefs.

Brandon was the second Schaible child to die due to a lack of medical treatment.

At the time of his death, in April 2013, the couple was on probation for their role in the death of a second son, two-year-old Kent, who died in 2010 under nearly identical circumstances.

In sentencing the Schaibles to prison, Philadelphia Common Pleas Court Judge Benjamin Lerner drew a seemingly sharp line between the right of parents to raise their children as they see fit, and the responsibility of the state to intervene to protect the health and autonomy of minors.

But as recent events attest, that line is often fluid, and its exact location frequently depends on who's drawing it and which side they find themselves on.

Just days before the Schaibles' sentencing, and half a world away, legislators in Belgium approved a new law that will place significantly more power into the hands of parents in the name of protecting the dignity of dying children.

To qualify a child must be suffering from a “medically futile condition of constant and unbearable physical pain or mental suffering that can not be alleviated.” Children seeking relief through euthanasia must be of “sound mind and judgement” and they must make the request themselves. They also need the consent of their parents.

While the thought of a child suffering the indignity of a painful death is hard to swallow, given all the things we don’t let kids do because of their diminished capacity, handing them the responsibility of ending their own lives seems ethically reckless.

Exactly how “sound” is a seven-year old’s judgment? Can someone that age possibly understand the implications of a decision to end her own life? Under the circumstances it seems much more likely that such a decision would fall to her parents, or at least be strongly influenced by them. Which raises the question:

How much control should parents have over life and death decisions affecting their kids, and when should the state step in to take it away?

In the United States. that question has often played out against the backdrop of our unique notions of personal and religious liberty.

Last October, Andy and Anna Hershberger took their daughter Sarah — who is suffering from a highly treatable form of non-Hodgkin lymphoma — and fled the country to avoid subjecting her to the trauma of chemo.

Medical specialists at Akron Children’s Hospital had successfully lobbied a judge to appoint an independent legal guardian for the girl after her parents discontinued her treatment.

The Hershbergers, who are deeply religious, have chosen to pursue an alternative regimen of herbs and vitamins for their daughter; but doctors say the girl is unlikely to last another year without chemo.

Despite the obvious similarities to the Schaible case, the Hershbergers have received an outpouring of support for their decision to discontinue Sarah’s chemotherapy. A nonprofit legal association has taken up their cause before the Ohio Supreme Court, and at least one group has already raised thousands of dollars towards the family’s legal defense.

An attorney for the family said their case “touches upon the very role of government in a free society,” and their recent court victory has been hailed as “a small win for parental rights.”

Assuming there is an ethical distinction between these two cases — and my guess is that at least some readers will see one — help me draw the line. Is withholding chemotherapy different than withholding antibiotics if the end result is a child's death?

Will the Hershbergers' supporters feel any differently about the couple if and when Sarah succumbs to her illness? Should they?

The courts have given parents wide latitude in making all kinds of decisions that could potentially harm their kids.

“The statist notion that governmental power should supersede parental authority in all cases because some parents abuse and neglect children is repugnant to American tradition. Simply because the decision of a parent is not agreeable to a child or because it involves risks does not automatically transfer the power to make that decision from the parents to some agency or officer of the state.”

In other words, you can refuse to get your child vaccinated, let him ride a bike without a helmet, or feed him McDonald’s for dinner every night. But at some point — and this point varies from case to case — society says you’ve gone too far.

The Hershbergers say they simply couldn’t watch their daughter suffer through chemo treatments anymore — which is a feeling any parent could certainly identify with; and they were willing to risk their child’s death to see that suffering stop. By the standards of medical officials and at least one Ohio judge, they went too far.

I’m inclined to agree, even though I might do the exact same thing if I were in their position. If there is one thing every parent shares, it’s the belief that they know what’s best for their own kids. If only that were always true.

In their own minds, the Schaibles' religious convictions are just as strong and valid as the Hershbergers' determination to prevent Sarah from the horrors of chemo. Which is why the idea of a parent actively facilitating the death of their child, as some Belgians will no doubt soon begin to do, makes me uncomfortable.

But like many ethical questions, I recognize there are gray areas here. I can only hope I’m never called upon to explore them.

Christopher Moraff is a Philadelphia-based writer who covers politics, media and culture for a number of local and national publications. His work has recently appeared in The Philadelphia Inquirer, Business Insider, Washington Monthly and Al Jazeera America.